The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1887-09-24

his wife. She did not recover very fast, and
the affair had pulled her down far more than
anyone would have thought possible for
woman who could tramp her 90 miles day
and be fairly fresh at the end of it. For
many days she lay in her bed or on her sofa
strangely silent, resting her cheek against
the child's blonde head. From her window
she could see the old church and the church
yard where her father slept; the church
where, in the days of her childhood, she had
prayed and sung Sunday after Sunday. as
she never did now. She could see the pure
white cross which marked her fathers
resting place, and she knew by heart the
words;
"His works do follow him."
Eight years he had been dead. She had
not thought so much of him in all those
eight years as she had done since her baby
came. How proud he would have been to
see his grandson-how delighted to have
added another name to the long list of Vanes
in the baptiSmal register
"Eustace," she said suddenly one day,
when the child was more than a month old,
81 should like to have a dance for the chris
tening."
with mild astonisment.
"The christening"
"The child is already named; l registered
him as William LOTUS Vane. Did not tell
your"
"Yes, dear-but the ceremony"-she be-
gan.
"You don't mean to say" he interrupted,
pointing to the church, "that you want to
take the poor child over there and water him
as if he were young vegetable and you
wanted him to grow the quicker? Or, per-
haps, you intend going through the cere-
mony of thanksgiving also?"
"Oh, mol forgot" blushing scarlet at his
sarcasm. But should like dance, Eus-
tace"
dearest, you shall have dozen dances,
if they will please you," he answered, kiss
her. Don't let these morbid fancies get
hold of you--you know you are not really
strong yet"
So the child was not christened, and Eus-
tace Vane's sarcasm having killed the yearn-
ing in the mothers heart, she went in for
her advanced ideas more warmly than ever,
and the green bay-tree flourishel greener
and greener. Truly, it did seem hard upon
the simple folk who had so many troubles.
Upon one point every one was agreed and
that was that when the days of babyhood
were passed, the little heir of Vanedene be-
gan to prove himself wonder after all. AT
five years old he knew as much as child of
ten. or of twice ten for the matter of that !;
he could repeat poetry in three or four Ian
guages by the page; could play violin and
piano; had written story, printed by his
parents, who were wiser than their IA
theirs had been, and circulated among their
friends; in short, he was an infant prodigy
fine, handsome, healthy, intelligent child,
forced far beyond his years and beyond his
strength.
No simple toys were his by day-no simple
prayers he said by night indeed not one
night out of seven did he have the sound
healthy sleep childhood ought to have. No,
his toys were mechanical models of the most
complicated description, and night after
night he was kept up till midnight at his
mothers parties or at circus theatre, concert
and the like, until the handsome eyes would
stay open no longer, and he was carried off
to bed, worn out by fatigue, yet too thor
oroughly excited to sleep.
No one, except his parents, was surprised
when little Willie fell ill., as he did one dull
and dreary November day, after being up
till one in the morning at ehild's fancy bail
got up for his pleasure. No one was sur
prised, but his parents were filled with a
horrible agony of fear when the doctors who
had been called in to attend him announced
the case to be Inflammation of the brain and
almost hopeless.
Quickly the news spread through Vane-
dene till it reached the rectory. Then. at
once, the rector sailed out and took his way
towards the Hall. Mrs. Vane came to him.
SIS it true?" he asked.
"Ohl too true-too true" she sobbed.
''Let me baptize him." said the good man.
taking her hand and looking at her with
kindly pity.
at will do no good" she cried. "Oh, my
boyw
"Oh, Mrs. Vane," he said, earnestly, "why
will you disregard the truth? 1t is God who
has sent this trouble upon you. If the child
is taken, can you find it in your heart to lay
him over there and leave him foreyer?"
"For ever" she echoed.
"Can you bear the villagers, among whom
you have lived all your life, those who have
Logged the child as well almost as yourself, to
say that you buried him like dog?"
Like dog" she cried in an anguished
voice.
"Can you refuse for him-your little inno-
cent child-the glorious inheritance which
your husband and you have refused for
yourselves?"
''Oh, no! mop
"Show me the way" said the rector, draw
ing her toward the door.
She led him to the room where the child
lay fighting his last struggle with the grim
King of Terrors. Eustace Vane stood by
the bed-a very haggard and anxious Eus-
tace Vane, utterly crushed by the blow even
| then falling upon him. The rector did not
lose moment, but even as he took the basin
of water which was brought at his request,
there was sigh-a shiver-a sudden OPEN
| ing of the blue eyes-a surprised smile and
murmur of Mother p'--and then Mrs. Vane
sank upon her knees with an exceeding bit
ter cry, "Too late-too late!" and Eustace
Vane realized that they were childless.
| Into bis mind there came remembrance
| of lovely summers day, when his wife had
| spoken of the child's christening of his own
sarcastic words-of the scarlet flush upon
her cheek as she heard them-of his frequent
boast, eve are wiser than our fathers"
And then there came to him out of the
Book which he had despised message
straight from the God whom he had denied:
Behold! your house is left unto you desc
late"
Tricks of the SmuggIers.
New York Tribune.]
The modern hustle is weighing upon my
eou1 avnlaimod napuf,y Colloo+o. AoC1o1